


Bloodhound

by Insertsmartnamehere



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Collapsed lung, F/M, First Aid, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Not sure if Max and Logan are a couple, Whump, bullet wounds, but only briefly, decide for yourself, or just friends, shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 14:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insertsmartnamehere/pseuds/Insertsmartnamehere
Summary: 'Max,’ Logan repeated, the word forced and small. 'I can’t – I can’t breathe.'Or: Logan and Max had only been looking for some more information, not a gunfight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise surprise, I don't own these two.   
> Please enjoy, and if you've got any time to spare... feedback makes my day. :)

‘Please remind me why we are here.’

They were standing crouched low behind a crumbling wall. A small square lay in front of them, hidden between wrecked buildings and lighted only by one flickering streetlamp. The people in the middle were talking in hushed tones. Max couldn’t make out the words.

‘Because we have to find out more about this group.’ Logan didn’t even look at her, his eyes fixated on the scene before them. ‘I think they are luring in kids, using them to commit their crimes instead of getting their own hands dirty.’

Despite the whispering, there was an intensity to his voice that told Max everything she needed to know. He had found something that needed fixing; he wouldn’t let go before he had done so. He was worse than a bloodhound, in that way.

Body stiff from crouching so long, Max shifted slightly. Her elbow touched the wall for no more than a moment. That was enough. Too much. Stones moved and a small avalanche came down, rumbling in the quiet night air.

Immediately, Logan’s hand shot out. He pulled her closer to him, ducking to the ground.

‘Did you hear that?’ a harsh voice asked.

She didn’t dare look around the wall, but she heard footsteps coming closer and held her breath. Logan did the same; she could feel his heart pumping right through his clothes.

‘Hear what?’ a woman answered.

‘A noise! There’s someone here.’

‘You’re imaging stuff, Perce.’

‘Am not.’

The footsteps sped up and Max realized there was no way they were going to get out of there unseen.

‘We have to confront them,’ she whispered.

Logan nodded. In the dark, his face looked drawn, lips forming a tight line.

'You stay down,’ she continued. 'I am going to get up and shoot. While they are distracted, you run.’

'I am not – ’ he started, but she had already jumped from their hiding space and fired at the nearing man. 'Run!'

The people were all getting up now, screaming and sprinting closer. Logan stood unmoving.

’Run!’ she yelled again. She took two more shots before she grabbed Logan’s arm and fled.

The man behind them was shouting for them to stop, but they paid him no mind. Seconds later, a bullet hit the wall of a house close by, impact ringing. In front of them, no more than fifty meters away, a turn in the road promised some measure of safety. If they could just get there…

With her ability’s, Max might have made it. But Logan, for all his skills, was still only human.

A second shot.

A third.

Logan half-turned to see if they were being followed. The next moment, he screamed, lost his footing, and almost pulled her with him to the ground. Storm clouds took immediate possession of her brain. She wanted to shout his name, panic, ask him if he was okay, tell him he _had_ to be okay. But in their current situation, there was no time for these things. Roughly, she hauled him to his feet. His low moan tore right trough her. More bullets slammed into stones all around them.

'We gotta run, Logan, you gotta run,’ she said. She threw his arm over her shoulder and wrapped hers around his waist, pulling him with her. They stumbled on, every step torment; Logan wheezed and coughed, struggling to keep up. To distract him, or maybe to distract herself, she strung an endless stream of mumbling: 'You are fine. We just have to get out of here. You are not going to die on me, Logan.’

They made it to the turn, then to another, and suddenly, in the frenzied mess that was her mind, she noticed it had gotten silent. All she heard was her own rushed breathing and Logan’s groans and whimpers, entangled with quick gasps.

Between the towering buildings, she lowered him to the ground. He didn’t protest, just lay boneless, his right arm draped over his chest. They had lost his glasses somewhere, and she wasn’t sure if he was squinting his eyes to see her, or that he was simply in pain.

'Max,’ he whispered, and he coughed again. His fingers spasmed. When she saw the blood coating his chin, her heart skipped a beat. His breathing didn’t calm down.

She knelled next to him, and hurriedly pushed his jacket out of the way. A red stain blossomed on grey cotton. Whispering apologies, she rolled him over a little to check his back. No blood. The bullet was still inside then – she had no idea whether she should be relieved by that or not.

'Max,’ Logan repeated, the word forced and small. 'I can’t – I can’t breathe.’

His eyes were blown wide now, looking up at her in sheer panic.

'Just keep trying, okay?’ She put her hands over the wound and pressed down. He moaned in response, arching his back. 'We have to get you to the hospital. Here, keep pressure.’ She took his right hand and placed it on his chest, pushing.

'I can’t breathe,’ he repeated. ’Max! I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, Max, please, I can’t - ’ His left hand was reaching up, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto. He grabbed the hem of her jacket and curled his fist around it.

'It’s alright,’ she said, even though it totally wasn’t. The fear was catching up with her, making her fingers tremble when she patted his legs, searching his pockets for a phone. She almost cried out in relieve when she found it. Her hands slippery with blood, it took two attempts to dial the right number.

'What’s your emergency?’ someone asked on the other side of the line.

'Shot,’ she gasped into the phone. 'He’s shot. We need an ambulance.’

DARK ANGEL

It didn’t take longer than a few minutes for the ambulance to reach them, but it were the longest minutes of Max’s life – and the longest of Logan’s, for sure.

Once she had told the medics their location, she dropped the phone and put her hands over Logan’s wound again. His fingers moved from her jacket to her wrist and he squeezed, but there was barely any strength behind it. He was clearly getting weaker, all color drained from his face. The coughing fits followed each other rapidly, leaving him with blood dripping from his mouth and tears threatening in his eyes. He was breathing, but there never seems to be quite enough air to calm him down.

'You have to stay awake,’ she told him, every time his head fell to the side.

When the sirens sounded, she felt like she had been running for hours straight.

The doors of the ambulance clapped open before it had properly come to a stop. Two men jumped out, rushing up to them and shoving Max out of the way.

'No,’ Logan gasped, but it wasn’t clear what he was protesting to.

'It’s okay. They have come to help.’ Max had let go of his wound to give the medics room to work, sitting down by his head instead. Unsure where to leave her hands, she stroked his short hair.

One of the men cut of Logan’s shirt, and taped something over the wound to slow the bleeding.

'His lung collapsed,’ the other announced. 'We are going to let the air escape, to lessen the pressure. We need an oxygen mask!’

His words seemed to get Logan’s attention, and despite the dire circumstances, Max was glad for that. The medic pulled a large needle out of the bag by his side. Swiftly, she bowed over Logan, to shield it from his view. 'Just let them to their jobs. It will be alright.’

His hand found hers again, and she took and held it. It was awfully cold.

The medic didn’t wait. He inserted the needle without warning. Logan screwed his eyes close, his gasping turning even more desperate. Max wasn’t sure anymore if it was because of his lung, the pain, the panic. She felt him shaking in her grip; the helplessness washed over her like a wave.

'Try to breathe normally,’ the medic advised. His colleague had provided him with a mask, which he was now placing over Logan’s face. 'Deep breaths. The pressure should be lessening now.’

Max could hear how hard Logan tried to do as told, but he still had a hole in his chest she didn’t even dare look at. Someone had brought forth a stretcher and they lifted him onto it.

'Get the IV’s ready. He needs pain killers and fluids – his blood pressure is dropping. Do you know his blood type?’

It took a moment before Max understood they were talking to her. 'O negative.’ She knew they wouldn’t do it, but she had to offer. 'He can have mine.’

'We will make sure some is waiting at the hospital. He will have to undergo surgery to remove the bullet. Let’s go.’

Max clambered into the vehicle behind them and hovered close as they inserted an IV in Logan’s right arm. His face looked weird behind the mask, without his glasses. He was still awake, and his blue eyes, usually so bright, were clouded over and unfocused. They slipped close while she was watching, and she made sure to remain contact till the very last moment.

'Hold on,’ she told him silently.

DARK ANGEL

The first sign he was waking up, were his fluttering eyelids. It made her think of the last time they had been in a hospital together like this; the same blue gown, the same machines monitoring things that should have been easy, automatic. After a surgery that had gone remarkably well – 'he must have a real diligent guardian-angel’ the doctors had told her – he had been asleep for almost two days now. They had removed the tubes helping him breathe, but the one in his chest remained, keeping his lung inflated till it was healed enough to work on its own.

Logan opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times, assessing the room around him. He tried to sit up, but she instinctively put a hand on his arm. 'No moving around just yet. You have been pretty close to hell, Logan.’

He turned his head to look a her. The recognition in his eyes, the smile tugging at his lips; it felt like all she had ever wished to see was flashing before her at once.

'Normal people would say heaven. Scratch that; normal people would say 'nice to see you’.’ His voice was still rough, but at least he sounded like Logan again, not some random guy dying in a meaningless street.

'If we were normal, we probably wouldn’t have been here in the first place.’ She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 'It’s nice to see you.’

A short knock on the door interrupted them. Logan tried to turn too quickly; he fell back to his pillow with a wince.

It was a nurse. The machinery must have signaled her in. She smiled when she saw them. 'Well, mister Cale, how are you feeling? You had us worried for a while, there. Your friend never left your side.’

She looked at Max, who suddenly felt all exhaustion of the past days drop down on her. She run a hand trough her greasy hair.

'Maybe you can get yourself refreshed a little while I give mister Cale a quick check up.’

Max looked at Logan. 'Will you be okay?’

He smiled at her and nodded. 'Of course. I will be out on the street within the week, you will see.’

'No, you won’t,’ Max and the nurse answered, exactly at the same time. She stood up, lightly patting his shoulder as she went. 'But if you behave, I will go and see if I can find your glasses.’


End file.
